Leaving

I am told peace-loving people somewhere far away
are competing in rocket science.
Surely there will soon be peace.

And when the stones are swimming,
the leaves will sink.

The peace of the night.

No need of followers

Attentive visitors might have noticed that Omnium's blogroll peu à peu has become shorter.

This is due to that I would not link (anymore) to bloggers

– whose blogs have not been available for more than one year;

– who would not link to other blogs (including Omnium).

Thanks for your attention. 


The older I get the less time I do have to be diplomatic.

And – may I say so? ... ha! of course, I may say so: I do not care about 'followers'. 

What stupid a word!

Millions followed Stalin, Hitler, Mao; millions got deceived by ... take the name of your choice ...


And I should ask for followers?

Whooaah. Too many idiots on this planet.

And I am one of them.

Still blogging.

The peace of the night.      

Monochrome Monday

Oh god, there was the morning light
as Dafydd ap Gwilym would whisper. Perhaps.

Blue tit's delight ...

... is an old lady's delight.

Who's nuts we may talk about later.
The peace of the night.

Time flies

Today one month ago I was given some interesting books,
an external hard disc, some sweets,
quite a few good wishes and words of thankfulness.
I smilingly took the wishes, and the thanks,
at five minutes to midnight
raised a pint of plain
and murmured to myself:
Herewith I declare the party opened:
Happy birthday, Sean. Slàinte.
Drank the pint, went to sleep
for about three hours
and
haven't since opened one of the books above.
It's been an eventful new year, so far.
I shall not complain. :)
I only wish I could fly like the time.

 

 

 

De ... light

... taken from exactly the same spot, three minutes after this one.

My Walden

... sort of, anyway.

Behind the Poplars

Deep L...ady Luna.

Far far away

... the rising sun.

Where I wish to be

There.

A dear old Neighbour

... watching the grey.

Friday is Skyday

Ah ...

For your imagination

After two and a half years ... there could be told some more episodes about the lady and her life whisperer. Alone, these are no days for writing.
These are days for preparing favourite meals; days and nights for trying to anticipate the very next wish [ the German idiom – 'to read all wishes from her eyes – sounds much nicer, would you agree?]; days and nights to speak about past 88 years, about present, death, dreams and future; days and nights to clean and caress, to hurry and hush; days and nights to enjoy a whispered thank you, an "oh, that was delicious"; days and nights for love and laughter,  for sparkling eyes and smiling silence ... dum spiro spero.

The peace of the night.